Our Syria policy is still a mess: These are the dots the media refuses to connect
Russia’s foreign minister reveals a strange talk with John Kerry, and explains much about American foreign policy
MOSCOW—Sergei Lavrov, Russia’s widely respected foreign minister, dropped a big one here last weekend. After an hour-long conversation with John Kerry, Lavrov asserted in nationally televised remarks that the American secretary of state told him he wanted Russian planes to stop bombing al-Nusra, the Syrian affiliate of al-Qaeda, in their air campaign against the Islamic State and other terrorist groups. GlobalSecurity.org carried the Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty account of the exchange; it is here and worth a read.
“They are telling us not to hit it [al–Nusra] because there is ‘normal’ opposition next…to it,” Lavrov explained very soon after the two put their telephones down.
Going public with a diplomatic conversation cannot have been a decision Lavrov took lightly. And he surely did not intend to embarrass the Obama administration’s top diplomat with these assertions, although he did a pretty good job of it nonetheless. Equally, he may have had no intention of casting light on how distorting, impractical and costly Washington’s standoff with Moscow has become—in Syria, Ukraine and elsewhere—but he did well on this score, too.
The State Department acknowledged Lavrov’s exchange with Kerry but parried that the latter had asked only that Russian bombers avoid targeting what the U.S.—and next to no one else—calls the “moderate opposition” in Syria. If you take this as a counter-argument, think again. It is a standard example of Washington’s familiar resort to evasion: Appear to confront the question forthrightly while subtly avoiding it altogether.
For the record, it has long been understood and occasionally acknowledged by those on the ground in Syria that many of the militias the U.S. has armed and trained are hopelessly tangled up with al–Nusra rebels. If you listen closely, this is not a matter of logistics or military strategy, and still less of happenstance. It is primarily a reflection of ideological affinity, given how regularly these groups are in and out of alliances with one another. Washington’s moderates, in other words, do not give much evidence of moderation. There is little ground left to qualify this even as a topic worth debate.
When Washington signed a “cessation of hostilities” agreement with Moscow last February, it agreed that its moderates—and the Russians were more than decent to accept there are any of significant number—had to separate themselves from al-Nusra and the Islamic State, the two groups excluded from the faltering-but-still-proceeding peace process in Geneva. Lavrov explained this on Russian television, clearly with the intent of begging certain questions: Why are these moderates still “marbled”—a term I heard here the other day—through al-Nusra’s positions? Why has Washington neglected to tell the people it insists on arming to get in those armed pickup trucks they drive and disperse? Or has it told them and they have refused, even as the arms continue to flow?
This was not the first time the Obama administration put this weird request to Lavrov, according to several sources here. “They’ve asked the same thing on three or four previous occasions,” Dimtry Babich, a Sputnik international affairs commentator, said in conversation after Lavrov’s televised remarks. And on three or four or more occasions, what we get from Washington matches the pattern: We keep asking the Russians not to bomb our moderates, the spokespeople at State explain, but they are not yet obliging.
What are we watching? Why has Lavrov, having long remained silent on this point, decided now to take the problem public? The answers are interesting.
Lavrov and Kerry have a close relationship, as has been widely reported. In videos of the two it is plain they are friendly, if only out of professional respect. Recall that three years ago President Obama painted himself into a corner with his “red line” commitment to bomb Damascus after those C.I.A.–trained moderates sent poison gas into a suburb of the capital and then tried to frame the Assad government. It was Lavrov who intervened to persuade Assad to ship stockpiles of chemical weapons out of the country. More recently, Lavrov’s cooperation was key as he and Kerry led the P5 + 1 group in negotiating the agreement that now governs Iran’s nuclear program.
So it is not a case of subterfuge or diplomatic sabotage, as it might at first appear. It is hard to cite a case when Lavrov has indulged in either. I see two takeaways in Lavrov’s decision last week to go unexpectedly public with a private conversation with Kerry, both larger than the incident itself.
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One concerns the propaganda that crawls like kuzdu all over official statements and press reporting on the Syria conflict. The two usually coincide, we need to note, though this is not always so.
Barrel bombs (of the kind American deployed against the Vietnamese), targeted hospitals, civilian casualties, blockaded populations pushed to starvation: If you have not read of all this and more you have not been reading the newspapers. Here is our question: How much of this do we know to be so and how much as to the culpable parties? Defending the Assad government is out of the question, of course. Damascus is something short of a Swedish dairy, to borrow a British bureaucrat’s phrase in another context. But condemning it on the basis of what we are told is out of the question, too. One cannot do either with any certainty.
The reality is that most of us are far deeper in the dark than we realize. We are not supposed to recognize this, but the principled position requires us to. Propaganda is an effective device, let there be no question, but our recent wars—in part media wars, as John Pilger, the Australian-British journalist, puts it—are something new. In this environment, propaganda machines eventually over-produce, as if they have exceeded their design tolerances. One is told this, that and the other so incessantly that one ends up accepting none of it at face value.
One of the aims of this column since Salon and I began it just about three years ago is to encourage clear sight—to remove the gauze of exceptionalism that separates us from perfectly obvious realities beyond our shores. It is a defensible intention, I would still say, but it can come to this: We have to see clearly that we are often not permitted to see clearly. It is the only way to proceed sensibly through the swamps of mis– and disinformation that just about drown us.
Where is our information about the war in Syria coming from? This is the obvious, mandatory question we can never forget to ask. Official narratives, various intelligence services and the Pentagon are plainly parts of the answer. So we have one problem straight off the top. Web sites such as Bellingcat.com, whose connections one would be naïve not to question, present another. In different places we are fed material from different sources. In the Syrian case, there is the incessantly quoted Syrian Observatory for Human Rights, which operates from an apartment in the English Midlands (as does Bellingcat). Ever have a coherent explanation of just what the Syrian Observatory is, who its people are, how it gets its information and how it checks what it gets? No need to answer. (Its “about us” page says it is not associated or linked with any political group.)
The other week some correspondents on the ground in Syria reported on an Observatory report, for once. The Observatory put it out that a hospital had been bombed somewhere on the front between the Syrian army and the Islamic militias fighting it. So many casualties, so many women and children among them. This stuff is rarely confirmed, if ever, before it reaches newspaper readers and television viewers. Maybe it was because journalists happened to be there on this occasion, but the reports on the report clarified: No, the bombs fell in a park nearby. No casualties. All that the Observatory reported came from rebel factions of obvious motivation and who knows what ideological persuasion.
It is one incident among countless events in a war, but its implications are large. The Lavrov-Kerry conversation is another and also comes with implications. We know little about events on the ground and not much more about what transpires among the diplomats. At the risk of sounding like Donald Rumsfeld in that famous observation of his early in the Bush II years, we need to know what we do not know.